


Deserved

by Miah_Arthur



Series: Miah's Whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beating, Blood and Injury, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Justice, Post-Episode: s02e06 Monster (Lucifer TV), Punishment, Suicidal Thoughts, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Arthur/pseuds/Miah_Arthur
Summary: Lucifer struggled to his knees and waited. If Heaven wanted to do this formally… it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d knelt awaiting judgment. He killed Uriel. He broke Linda. Lucifer will accept the punishment he deserves.





	Deserved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hircine_Taoist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hircine_Taoist/gifts).

> Thank you to Obliobla and redledgers for beta reading this story. 
> 
> And Thank you to Hircine_Taoist for the prompt for this one!
> 
> Whumptober 2019: #28 Beaten, #17 "Stay with me"

****

# Deserved

****

Lucifer sat on the beach. The place he’d landed when he escaped Hell. The place Maze had cut off his wings. The place where he’d chosen to wait for the end. He’d killed Uriel. He clenched his fists. Uriel’s blood was gone, scrubbed away with his skin until his own blood replaced it. Even that was gone now, his skin healed perfectly, leaving no witness of his sins.

He’d dug for hours to bury Uriel, confessed his crime to his mother, broken his therapist, and futilely sought punishment for his crimes. 

This hadn’t been a great week.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting here, watching the water rise and fall, lapping almost to his feet, then retreating. Someone would be along to deal with him. It had already taken longer than he’d expected, but Heaven couldn’t allow his crime to go unpunished. Shouldn’t. He deserved to be exiled to Hell. Trapped. Wingless. Doomed to wander the canyons, powerless to escape to his high throne. He had murdered his brother. He deserved no less.

The whoosh of wings behind him was a welcome reprieve from the interminable waiting.

Lucifer stood, his limbs unsteady after remaining motionless for so long. As he turned he saw Raguel. Tall. Broad. Stern, perpetually scowling features that, today, radiated rage. 

“Raguel. I—”

A sweep of Raguel’s wings blew Lucifer off his feet. He landed hard, the air driven out of his lungs. He coughed and spluttered, trying to force his lungs to work. He’d never been so winded by a simple wing blast. 

“You will not speak, Vile One. I have come to enact Heaven’s justice upon you. Kneel and hear the indictment and judgement.”

Lucifer struggled to his knees and waited. If Heaven wanted to do this formally… it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d knelt awaiting judgment. Though he expected it to be the last. There would be no reprieve this time. No vacations. No end to the punishment without his wings.

“You are accused of destroying my brother, Uriel. What say you?”

“I ask one boon before I answer.”

The blow knocked him into the sand, sparks of light filling his vision. Raguel hoisted him upright. His stomach rebelled and Raguel’s exclamation of disgust rose above the pounding in his head and ringing in his ears. Raguel backhanded him and his face hit the sand. Blood fountained from his nose. Raguel’s booted foot sent Lucifer careening. Pain flamed in his chest with every breath, and he forgot everything but pulling air into his lungs.

Heavy footsteps shook the sand underneath him. A crushing grip on his arm hauled him onto his knees. He listed to the side, gasping, unable to take a full breath, but he stayed upright by bracing with his arm. His head hung low, the effort of remaining on his knees taking most of his air. He shouldn’t be so affected by Raguel’s blows, but he’d never deserved pain more in his long life. Had he truly, fully fallen as Amenadiel had? 

“What say you to the accusation, Traitorous Abomination?” Raguel’s harsh voice yanked him back to attention.

“Guilty, brother. I am guilty.” He flung his head back, making eye contact with Raguel. “Punish me!” He forced breath into unwilling lungs and continued, “But my demon, Mazikeen, is not guilty. All I ask is that—” 

The blow this time caught Lucifer in the stomach. He retched, fanning the flames in his chest. Raguel gripped him by the throat, hauling him back to his knees. 

“You, Corrupt One, Monster, Worthless Desecrator, I sentence you to death, and eternity of torment in Hell.” 

Lucifer missed the instant his face hit the sand this time. He was on his knees, and then he was on his back, Raguel’s sword coming toward him. Loud bangs eclipsed the ringing in his ears and Raguel disappeared. 

“Oh my god, Lucifer!” The Detective’s face filled his narrowing field of vision. 

“Detective.” 

“Stay with me, Lucifer. I called an ambulance. Just breathe, okay.” 

He frowned. Raguel wouldn’t hurt a human, but Lucifer needed… his vision faded out. “Go. Not—”

Her voice wavered as it faded out. “He’s gone, Lucifer. You’ll be okay. Stay…”

* * *

Sound came back first.

“You are an idiot, Lucifer!”

He was being carried like a baby. His body felt numb, unreal. He knew distantly that he should be in pain.

“...Maze.”

“Save your breath. Your asshole brother broke half your ribs and punctured your lung, and Decker was nearly impossible to get rid of for you to heal.”

“Raguel.” Breathing shouldn’t be this hard. “Sentenced me...death.”

“Amenadiel and your mother are dealing with him.” They passed through a wide doorway—he recognized the Laguna Beach property—and Maze placed him on the bed with more gentleness than he expected. She pushed a plastic mask onto his face and turned a knob on a canister. At his questioning look, she said, “I swiped it when I took you from the ambulance. You’ll heal before it runs out.”

“Thank you.” The mask muffled his voice, but Maze huffed at him.

“Yeah, well, can’t leave you to _human_ medicine now can I?” She pushed the hair from his eyes. “I’ll get ice for your face.”

He faded out and woke to raised voices. Amenadiel, Maze, Mum, Raguel. The mask was gone from his face, and the detachment that separated him from the pain had abandoned him. His face throbbed, his vision was limited to one eye, and it was narrowed from swelling. The swelling blocked breathing through his nose. He rolled up to sitting on the edge of the bed. His ribs shifted, sending hot tendrils of pain through him.

He stood, his shoulders hunched, and took shuffling steps to the doorway, down the hall, to the parlour, the voices growing louder. Mum’s voice, her tone wheedling, sounded nearest. Amenadiel—commanding, pretentious. The Oldest. God’s mightiest warrior. Blah, blah, blah. Maze paced behind them, furious, but cold. Her most deadly mode. He didn’t have the energy to devote to listening and moving past the pain at the same time. They could have at least given him more time to heal before bringing the circus to him.

He staggered into the midst of them. Raguel’s sword flashed as he drew it from its scabbard. Lucifer tried to gracefully lower himself to his knees, but crashed was a better description. The impact sent shock waves of pain through him, but he didn’t fall.

He held his head high, his gaze steady on Raguel, and said, “Finish it, brother.”

“You will do no such thing, Raguel!” 

Mum’s voice held power and command that Lucifer hadn’t thought possible of her borrowed human shell. Raguel froze, his blade inches from Lucifer’s chest.

“He pled guilty, Mother.” His voice cracked as he continued, “As did you before your exile.”

She stepped close, pressed her body to Raguel’s side, and stroked his cheek. “Son, it is not justice when the accused may not defend themselves. We told you what happened. Uriel brought Azrael’s blade. He threatened a human life. He threatened _my_ life. Your brother had no choice. He acted in the only way possible to stop it. It was not murder.”

The blade wavered. “Samael, does she speak the truth?”

Lucifer clenched his fists at the name Samael, but opened them. It was deserved. He nodded. “But I ended his existence, Brother. I _deserve_ to be punished. Kill me! Send me to Hell! To eternal damnation! I _need_ it.” Tears filled his eyes, but he didn’t allow them to fall. He whispered, “I need it.”

Raguel’s sword point dropped, and he sheathed it. “I amend my earlier sentence. You will live with what you’ve done. You will continue to fulfill the deal you made with Father to handle mother’s escape.” He took a step back, disentangling himself from Mum with a grieved expression, and nodded at the group. “Justice has been meted out.” 

With a rush of air, Raguel disappeared.

Maze hauled Lucifer up and deposited him on a sofa. “I’ll go distract Decker. You better heal fast. It won’t take her long to figure out where you are, and good luck getting rid of her when she does.”

Amenadiel gave him a long look, said, “I’ll help Maze,” and trotted off after her.

Mum looked at him, examining, calculating. A ridiculous surge of hope flared that she would do or say something motherly. She crouched in front of him, leaning in. “You will never do anything so reckless again, do you understand me?” 

Lucifer gulped. This was the mother he knew and feared. “Yes.”

She beamed a smile and traced her thumb over his least injured cheek. “That’s my light-bringer. Such a good boy. Now, rest. Heal. I must go deal with the husband and children that belong to this body.”

She strode out without a backward glance. 

Alone, as he deserved. Lucifer contemplated returning to the bed, but not walking won out. He shifted to lie on the couch, groaning as theatrically as he wanted, since there was no one to put on a brave face for. It bloody well hurt, and he could tell the empty house all about it. Being alone had some advantages. He stared at the walls, aching, feeling the sharpness of knitting bones, the relief as his lungs healed and he could breathe properly. The despair of knowing he’d been ordered to live with what he’d done weighed heavily on him, and the healing stretched out far longer than normal. Shadows lengthened as the day waned and sleep took him at last. 

He dreamed of Hell.

* * *

“Lucifer!” Fingers pressed to his throat. “Lucifer, can you hear me?”

He pried his eyelids open and tried to sit up. His ribs hadn’t healed through, and he felt the pain more vividly with the detective here. He dropped back onto the sofa with a grunt. 

Her hands were on his shoulders, pressing him into the cushion. He had a wider field of vision now. His right eye opened fully, and the left partially. He could breathe through his nose, but with her near his head pounded, his vision blurred and his stomach roiled with queasiness. He turned his head to the detective. She looked haggard, tired, scared. 

“Detective! Whatever is the matter?” He frowned. His words slurred at the edges.

“You disappeared from the back of an ambulance, Lucifer! You weren’t even conscious. Someone tried to kill you on the beach. I’ve been searching all afternoon, because I thought the guy came back and took you only to track you here! What happened?”

“A miscommunication with my brother. Won’t happen again.”

“Amenadiel did this? It wasn’t Amenadiel I saw attacking you, Lucifer.”

He swallowed against the increasing nausea. “I have many siblings, Detective.”

She eyed him suspiciously and retrieved a trash bag from the kitchen. “Lucifer, you need to let the medics check you out this time.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll stay with you. You won’t be alone.”

He felt terrible. If she left him for a few more hours, he’d be fine, but her sincere care and offer to stay with him outweighed any pain he might suffer. And hospitals had IV drugs. Those might be fun around the detective. He wouldn’t be alone. Even though he didn't deserve her looks of concern and her promises, and her perfect, small hand squeezing his, he wouldn’t be alone.

“Thank you, Detective.”

And she must have seen through him, directly into his soul that he usually wrapped in enough layers of armor that even he didn’t know what it held, because she brushed the hair from his forehead with a gentleness he didn’t know, and said, “It’ll be okay, Lucifer. Rest. I’ll be here.”


End file.
